Magnet
by MargeryDoe
Summary: X-Men: First Class. What if Erik, instead, forced Charles to come with him to oppose the humans? What if he couldn't let go of his telepath? Alternate ending to movie.
1. The Beginning

Author's Note: Saw this movie a couple weeks ago and just got around to writing something.. I ship Charles and Erik **HARDCORE**. Well, anyways, I was watching it (and yeah, we all know what is _supposed_ to happen) but I hated it soo.. **I'm writing an alternate ending.**

I'm not the smartest X-Men groupie out there and I admit I don't know all the facts but I'll try my best to keep this on track. I'll continue if people inspire me to continue (cause it could end here w/o the smut and hardcore shipping.)

I do not own X-Men or any of the characters in this fanfiction.

ONWARD.

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><p>Charles rushed across the sand, kicking up the bits against the back of his legs and flinging it behind him in a hurry. His stare was focused solely on stopping Erik from doing something regrettable; Everyone's eyes were watching as the metal bender turned every single missile back upon their masters. The control over so many large objects was enough to shock anyone but Charles took himself in stride.<p>

He tackled the concentrating man, forcing him into the sand and forcing him to break connection with the bombs. They wrestled along in the sand, struggling against one another's physical power, hands and arms and legs and knees scrambling to get in a good enough hit to throw the other off, to beat the other. But Erik had always been the bigger man and thus he slammed Charles to the ground with a rough shove, jarring the telepath's head against the gritty beach. Erik stood, wiped himself relatively clean of sand and then gave a good long stare out at the ships, the _humans_. The bombs all dropped, drooping from their power burst and each exploded one by one; Erik's eyes watched slowly, his breathing heavy.

"Get up," Erik commanded, the fury and rush of exhilarating power making his words sharp, harsh. His stance stiffened, his fingers curling to fists by his side. He was pulsing, rushing with ability; He could do _anything_. When Charles stared at him, awestruck by Erik's sudden increase in power, their sudden break in connection, he didn't -couldn't- move from the sand. There was something else in that expression the telepath held and it was something he'd never had with Erik.

Fear. He feared for Erik's stability and for his best friend's mind. But he also feared for the humans out along the oceans, the many men who did not understand the situation, did not understand Erik. And he feared for his group, his companions. This power could make a man go mad.

"I told you to _get up_!" Erik roared. His eyes met Charles' and Charles didn't need telepathy to tell that Erik wasn't fucking around. He scrambled, slipping in the sand, to his feet.

And he tried to reason with his closest friend, hurrying closer, "Erik, you don't need to-Ow!" His face contorted into a grimace of pain and surprise at the death grip on his upper arm. "Erik-" His eyes were wildly trying to search that familiar face under the helmet and all he could find was rage.

"Shut up." Erik snapped into Charles' face, holding tight enough to bruise. Those angry eyes bore into the telepath's stare before he stated, far more calmly, "We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Charles echoed, alarmed and while he exclaimed, "Erik, what in the world has gotten into-" His fingers tried to pry that stone cold grip from his skin. And then he saw, he saw all the stares of his teammates. They were watching him and he met Raven's suspicious narrow-eyed look. Her lips were open as though she thought to say something but found her voice absolutely gone.

Charles' heart rambled and beat against the confinements of his chest rapidly. What was that look? "Raven-" He began but they'd been staring far too long to have the conversation as Erik had motioned Azazel close with the rest of the opposing team. They linked hands and Charles received one heart wrenching sentence pulsing through his mind from his oldest friend.

_I knew you'd pick him over me._

And then they were gone.


	2. Needs

Author's Note: Wow, so many reviews on my first chapter! I love you people. Seriously. I hope not to disappoint with my second chapter. **Please, give me your reviews;** It keeps me coming back to write.

All errors, mistakes and problems are my own. Please excuse them.

I do not own X-Men: First Class or any of the characters in this fanfiction.

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><p>Charles' eyes set upon the large figure of his -their- mansion and he searched the magnificent building as though the reasoning for them being there would be written upon its walls. He looked to Erik, questions and confusion evident in his shining blue eyes. His arm was giving him an awkward sense of balance, raised by Erik's strong grip. "The mansion?" He finally voiced his surprise.<p>

"I understand you have things you might want to pack. I won't let you go completely unprepared." Erik said, his eyes locked onto the building, squinting slightly in the sun. He seemed so calm concentrating; Quite a normal expression for Erik. They'd stood here before during times of training and conversation, in the sun and fresh air. Although now it seemed distant, a parallel world of memories where things had been more hopeful. Everything was different since then, and yet nothing had changed about this place. It was disorientating.

The other mutants, the ones following Erik's strong lead stood behind the two, waiting and watching. Azazel shifted on his feet, giving a quick glance around but otherwise they seemed to fade into the background.

Charles hissed for a split second, immediately looking to the white knuckled fingers of the hand around his arm. He could feel his skin bruising under the hold. It wasn't like Erik to become so physical with him. He didn't have much time to react though, because Erik strode forward and Charles could only stumble his first few steps. His heels dragged, scraping his shoes along the ground, but it didn't slow Erik's powerful move. So Charles took to talking, "Erik, let go. You're hurting me."

This seemed quicken the strides, if anything. Erik continued to lead him towards the mansion and in a voice that was powerful, strong and able he said, "You're quite powerless now, aren't you Charles? You have no control when you cannot reach my mind." It also sounded bitter and proud. As if to say, _"Yes Charles, I can reduce you to this. I can and I will."_

The telepath swallowed, trying not to digest the words too painfully. His heartbeat skipped when Erik threw open the doors, and they listened and waited through the echo of the bang before Charles tried to reason, "You're only upset, we can talk this through, we can work it all out. You don't mean what you say." _Please, Erik-_

"No!" And the word was quickly accompanied by Erik whipping around to face Charles. The fury in those familiar blue orbs startled the telepath enough to flinch from surprise, his breath catching in his throat. Erik's anger, his manic rage flared behind his expression, rearing it's flaming head. But it quickly slunk back out of sight when Erik sighed out, "No. Charles, that's where you've been wrong. I mean exactly what I say."

"Erik, you're letting your anger take over you-" Charles began again, determined to see and talk to the Erik that had once pushed himself into a state between rage and serenity, the Erik that had become his closest friend. The walk up the stairs was difficult and awkward, but nonetheless impossible to avoid. Charles knew he should immediately contact his team, tell them where he was. But he didn't, and he wouldn't. At least not yet, not until he had been able to truly talk with Erik.

Erik's aggressive words overpowered Charles hopeful, pleading ones. "I'm finally realizing what I needed to do. This is a war _we_ could win, Charles. I need you by my side, you have to understand." And in the possibility that Charles had never once pondered, Erik seemed to be pleading as well. Pleading for Charles to accept his offer to stay by his side, to accept the metal bender's view on the world. He led the telepath into a familiar room, a room full of their time and memories; The study which they'd played so many lingering games of chess in. The lights flicked on and the yellow glow of the lamps greeted Charles worried brow. Erik finally released his arm saying, "You don't belong to the humans, to the lesser race."

Charles hand found the sore, throbbing spot shaped of Erik's hand. He tenderly covered it with his hand, quite aware of the bruise that was going to form. "But we can make a place that coexists with humans, we don't have to fight."

Erik turned to stare at him, standing by his chair, one hand on the wooden lining. The same accusation Charles had heard some times before came roaring back. "You're naive. You've always been naive, blindly following the notion that most humans solely exist being good and doing good and making good things." And at that, Erik's brow creased heavily, his body stiffening with anger and impressive energy. His voice soared, growing fierce, "You are ignoring all the signs, Charles! You are ignoring reality! Well, reality has caught up to you! What do you say to that?" His voice ended with a harsh snap, blue eyes ablaze with a sick yellow light in the room.

Charles frowned, his hand lingering over his pulsing limb. For a moment, he could say absolutely nothing, no words coming to form in his chest. The talk of reality reminded him painfully of Raven, who they'd both left on the beach. She had talked to him of being naive, of being unaware of his unrealistic ideas. The two most important people in his life, both arguing against his truth, against his vision. Finally, he said, hushed, "I don't understand, my friend." At his label, his voice hesitated and his eyes dipped to the floor.

"I'll make you understand..._friend_." The last word lingered on Eriks' tongue, dancing in Charles mind. It was foreign to hear such a word from the metal bender and it brought Charles' eyes flicking right back up. "I don't want to do this without you. I _won't_ do this without you." Erik stared right back, keeping tight hold of Charles' gaze.

"Erik, we can work this through-" Another try, Charles pushed. He was just as persistent, just as willing. And he was just as torn. He stood near his chair, both separated by what seemed like a sea of thoughts. This was also just the parallel of a distant time that was a talk about peace and revenge. It felt just as far away and just as painful.

"No, you aren't listening!" Erik snapped, quieting Charles who watched, searched in startled silence. "I need you, Charles." Erik's eyes were piercing, vibrant, full of power and confidence and struggle and they shocked Charles. The helmet came off as quick and as punctuating as his confession which was loud and echoing across the walls. It was so strong and heavy, just like the sudden grip on Charles' upper arms. Maybe Erik thought he was going to run if he didn't hold firm because those able fingers tightened. _If I don't hold onto him, I'll lose him. If I let go, I'll regret it forever._ And then it was gone, just like a flash.

And Charles was brought back into actuality, so blindly gripped by Erik's sudden open thoughts that he felt strange without the familiar presence. His eyes, questioning and slow, worked their way up to see Erik's sharp stare. And he knew the feeling that Erik had been feeling, because he felt it too. "I need you too, my friend." Charles said slowly, unsure of how Erik had missed that simple fact.

An emotion glimmered in those eyes Charles had come to know. A push in his head, a wonderful, cordial presence touched his reach, as though they were intertwining their fingers once more. _Charles, Charles, Charles._ The name resounded in Charles mind, over and over, filled with a brilliance of emotion. Just like the flash before his eyes. A well of affection for his closest friend swelled in his chest and he wanted to smile and reassure his desperate friend. Instead he was caught off guard by a firm grip around him, Erik's arms holding him, and only managed to say one word, but one meaningful word, passing through his mind to the other's.

_Erik_.


End file.
